Devil May Cry 3: Vergil's Awakening
by Warp Ligia Obscura
Summary: An alternate version of DMC3SE's Vergil Story, with Vergil gaining Devil Arms and Dante as the villain.
1. Prologue

DEVIL MAY CRY THREE: VERGIL'S AWAKENING

By Warp Ligia Obscura

Disclaimer: Devil May Cry and all characters within belong to Capcom, not me.

Prologue

The Library was usually filled with people, but not this late at night. The time was past 11pm and most of the lights were off. In front of a large, tall bookshelf, by a ladder, stood a man who was apparently engrossed in a book. The man was wearing a long red coat, from which a stick appeared to protrude. He seemed to be of no little age, with a head full of white hair.

In the silence of the library, the white-haired man being the only visible occupant, footsteps resounded. A shadow, unnoticed by the man, approached.

"So, you're looking for the book of ancient legends," The shadow asked, and we got our first look at the reader. Surprisingly, his face was one of youth. Sharp-nosed, no earlobes and not a wrinkle to be seen, clean-shaven and no sideburns, but with shoulder-length hair and a fringe that touched the eyebrows. He too had firm, healthy-looking lips. His coat had black and silver linings. The stick could be now seen as gold-coloured and tapering into a crown-like protrusion.

Features concealed despite the lamp behind it, the shadow continued despite the man nodding grimly at something his eyes were picking up, paying little attention. "The tale of the demon warrior Sparda?"

The man slapped his book shut with his black-gloved right hand, revealing black with peculiar white patterns for a cover. As he returned it to its proper location, it could be seen that the portion of the sleeve covering the elbow appeared to have brighter-shaded, padding-like material on it. "Not what I want, whoever you are." He shoved the book home. "Piss off!" He lowered his arm.

"Then what are you looking for?" The shadow asked, stressing the first verb, as it consented to depart the darkness. It could now be seen as a bald male, somewhat aged, with scarring on the forehead and around the grey left eye. As one of the rare heterochromatics, his right eye was blue. His cheeks appeared sunk in and as he made himself fully visible, a nasty-looking patch of red was apparent on his left side. He was clad in a dark pullover and long pants. "A demon that impregnates a woman, who then bears twin sons…" The speaker scanned the titles of the bookshelf while advancing slowly. "That's the story, isn't it?" Apparently not finding what he was after, he returned his gaze to the former reader.

With blurring speed and a sound of metal sliding on metal, a sword had seemingly manifested itself in the reader's right hand. The stick extending from his coat was no more and it was clear that it had been the hilt. The blade was a silver, five-foot affair with a groove running down the centre on both sides, with the edge tapering inwards before the end but to widen back again, the tip of which hovered dangerously close to the bald one's chin.

Startled slightly, the bald one studied the blade as the reader threatened, "Go to hell or I open an extra hole in your face." He made his words without turning from the shelf to appraise the bald one.

Rather than be frightened, however, the bald one smiled. Opening his left hand but then folding down the third and fourth fingers in the rapper manner, he placed it at the tip of the blade. "People inherently fear evil. However…" He calmly slid the thumb down the lower edge of the sword. "… occasionally, a person may become seduced by evil." He stepped forward, taking no heed of the red patches that appeared on the floor along his path.

The reader turned his light blue eyes to regard the bald one out of the corners of his eyes, then shifted his head's orientation too. He detached his sword's edge from the bald one's finger, spun it in a circle, then slowly sheathed it in the scabbard between his coat and the red, black Velcro-fastened waistcoat he could now be seen as wearing. The unused belt hanging around his waist could also be noticed. "What's your point?"

"Share with me," The bald one uttered while stretching his neck, before bowing it. In his right hand he held a red-bound book. "The story of Sparda…"

The reader turned around and walked off as the bald one smirked. The raw patch on his face's left side appeared to be twisting and turning as if a mist, changing its shape.

The passing of time found the red-coated reader and the bald one, the former to the latter's right, standing before a long flight of stairs surrounded by grey walls. The redcoat had in his left hand a red scabbard with a pair of entwined "SSS" markings at the end. His cover now could be seen to be an ankle-length single-breasted coat with a central vent cut up to the hips.

"The activation method is as I have described before." The bald one turned to regard the redcoat. "It should be a simple matter for you." His right hand still held the red book possessively. "I will go to his place." He turned on his heel. "I believe that I know where the item we seek is located." The bald one strode past a statue of a wide-mouthed tortoise head without revealing the identity of the man he intended to visit. "You should dispose of any obstacles quickly." Passing by an effigy of an eagle in a tableau of mid-cry, he disappeared into the darkness.

There was brief silence afterwards, which was quickly broken by a sound not unlike the stereotypical depiction of a teleportation. The redcoat, who had tracked the bald one's progress, watched as humanoid figures emerged from the ground. Their bodies were wavy, shimmering white but extensively patterned with red, the forearms, shins and upper face being entirely crimson. Above pupil-less eyes, horns extended, giving a jester-like appearance. However, the clearest sign of these things' non-humanity was the quadruplet of horns poking out of their back and the long tail they had. In their hands they wielded bloody scythes with flaming blades.

The redcoat glanced from left to right, aware from the aural cues that more of these were emerging from the stairway. He uttered but one word, "Abyss", as he noted that he was being encircled. Another man would have been intimidated, but the redcoat merely smiled as three of the "Abysses" leapt at him with feral cries, strangely kicking up sand as they aimed to put him down. A scythe's blade drew near.

The redcoat snapped out with the scabbard, flashes of light emitting as it blocked the fiery death he would have received. Drawing the blade, he glimpsed on its well-polished surface an Abyss behind him. "Rebellion… Let's rock!"

There was a flash of light yet again. Behind the redcoat, an Abyss fell into left and right halves as the redcoat spun "Rebellion" in a circle around his right hand. Rebellion darted out and an Abyss lost its legs, a second had its body slit diagonally and a third stumbled uncertainly before its head slid off. Red blood leaked freely from the victims.

The redcoat cleaned Rebellion's edge on the sheath while slowly sheathing him. Behind him, the sounds of more appearing Abysses assailed his ears. One of them, approaching from the back, brought down its scythe.

The redcoat drew Rebellion once more, threw him into the air and shouted, "Come and get me!" He backflipped, grabbed the would-be assassin by the neck with his hands in mid-air and whirled around while throwing it away. It hit the floor and disintegrated. "Oh yeah! I'm glad the Falcon Ninja Clan taught me that!"

A second charged at him and his right leg flashed out, foot meeting Rebellion's pommel and launching him at its head. "Goal!" He shouted as Rebellion impaled itself into the Abyss' head and red electrical-looking discharges emitted from the wound.

A third made for a jumping strike, but the redcoat rolled out of the way and his right fist met its back, slamming it into the ground.

He leapt onto the dupe while holding his right hand out and the Abyss began sliding forward while Rebellion extricated himself from the "goalpost", which promptly exploded, and returned to the redcoat's hand. "Ride or die!"

A fourth popped out of the ground before the redcoat and tried for a horizontal swing. The redcoat merely leaned to his left, the blow wiffing, and snapped, "If you're Akane Higurashi…" Rebellion spun in his hand, then he sheathed him as the "vehicle" sped past the Abyss, which fell into a kneeling position, its extremities dropping off. "I'm Miyu Glear." He leapt off as his "steed" crashed into a wall and disappeared into a dust-like cloud.

Two more Abysses dashed to meet him, but a third was a bit smarter. In its left hand a flaming object appeared, which the Abyss threw at the redcoat. The redcoat calmly reached into the eponymous item of clothing and drew a white pistol slightly bigger than the hand that wielded it. His madly twitching left index finger called out bullets that caught the infernal device in mid-air, detonating it harmlessly. All while fending off the scythe blows, before making a full-circle sweep and splitting the first two in half horizontally. Hurling Rebellion into the air once again, the redcoat drew the first pistol's black twin and advanced on the bomber, the body of which was blown away under an inhumanly large serving of ammunition.

There was a beastly roar behind the redcoat, which died out to be replaced by metal passing into organic substance. The redcoat spun to see the ambusher with Rebellion sticking out of its skull. Behind it was another one, the last apparently. With a mighty leap, the redcoat made for the Abyss, his coattails trailing behind him.

The demon attempted to return the favour, but suddenly the redcoat was behind it. "Pop goes the weasel," The redcoat said whimsically as whatever made up the Abyss' neck gave off the sound the redcoat had mentioned, the man twisting the head home a full 180-degrees and tugging it off.

To the redcoat's six, more Abysses sprouted from the ground. "Looks like everyone wants a piece of me. Wait your turn, boys!" He holstered his guns and plucked Rebellion from the skull of the fool, then ran forward, blade dancing around as to leave white contrails as the redcoat plunged into the Abyss ranks and out the other side. He spun Rebellion behind his back and slowly kept the blade. For a moment, all appeared frozen in some tableau, but the redcoat shoved Rebellion home.

The Abysses split apart.

"That was fun, wasn't it, Reb?" The redcoat laughed as he ascended the stairs, the Abysses disintegrating behind him. Ahead of him was an intricately-patterned brown door. While closing his eyes, the redcoat said, "Let's press start!"


	2. Mission One: A Crazy Party

DEVIL MAY CRY THREE: VERGIL'S AWAKENING

Disclaimer: Devil May Cry and all characters within belong to Capcom, not me. 

Author's Notes: Off into the game proper we go. Sorry for taking so long.

Vergil might seem a bit OOC because I need to alter the dialogue to suit him. Also, there will be more moves available to him because his canonical selections are a bit limited.

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Mission One: A Crazy Party

A ringing of a telephone shattered the silence.

We were apparently far from where we had left the redcoat previously. What greeted the vision was an off-white table. On it was a sword seemingly made of turquoise crystal, lying next to a bowl of ramen, the famous Japanese instant noodles. To the bowl's right was a dark brown photo frame and a black antique telephone. On a clothes hanger in the background was a blue coat, standing next to a grey door.

The door swung open and a man emerged from the room beyond. He was white-haired and appeared muscular if thin, wearing a dark blue vest and long pants. Brown-gloved hands ran through the hair, slicking it back. He made his way to the desk and gave the black chair, placed wrong-side up at the time, a kick with a brown shin-length boot, upon which the chair flipped into the air and righted itself. Leaning slowly into the seat, he slammed his right foot onto the desk, after which the handset promptly flew off its resting place and into his waiting right hand. The soup in the bowl launched into the air and then fell back in. A gold necklace with a ruby-like stone was apparent on the man.

"Sorry, not open for business yet," The man said into the microphone, revealing his deep blue eyes at the same time. With a casual flick of his wrist, the handset sailed back onto its dock. "I have yet to pick a name for this place and they call me already." The man reached forward to pick up a pair of chopsticks and restart his consumption of the noodles.

Before a pair of black doors, there was someone waiting. It looked like our friend the bald one.

"Another customer, too?" The man asked as the bald one approached slowly over the distance between the door and the table. Above the bald one, a pair of quickly-rotating fans could be seen, as well as a table with a set-up mah-jong set to his left. "If it's the cloakroom you need, relief is in the back."

The bald one looked down at the content within his red tome, then slowly dragged his left hand's fingers over the surface of the mah-jong table as he advanced. "Is your name Vergil?" A glaring light made itself visible behind the man at the desk. "Son of Sparda?"

"How do you come to such a conclusion?" The man at the desk shot back, suspicion creeping onto his face. "I don't give that out readily."

"From your brother," The bald one replied, the red sky of dusk seen through the windows at his six. His eyes slowly took in the sight of the amulet wore by "Vergil", the stone within giving out a blue light. "He sent this invitation for you." The bald one lowered his right hand to fit under the protruding top of the desk. "Please accept it." He made an uncannily strong tug and the desk flew backwards. Vergil made a backflip and fell into a crouch, catching his bowl of ramen with his left hand and the chopsticks with his right. A crystalline sword, short with a curved edge as to resemble the Japanese wakizashi shortsword, appeared to his left, ready to penetrate the bald one.

Only that he was not there. Vergil scanned the expanse before him, taking in the sight of the jukebox at the far left, the case for a double bass and a bass guitar. Satisfied that there was no one else present, he got to his feet.

"Hmm-" There as the sound of a drop of liquid hitting the floor and Vergil looked down to see another drop of soup miss the bowl to fall onto the floor. "What a waste." He slowly picked out another bunch of noodles from the bowl. "Invitation, huh?"

As the noodles dropped into his mouth, there was a sound like shattering glass and a grey face with red eyes appeared before Vergil. A few more of these figures swarmed the man and the sound of edges exfoliating flesh sounded itself some times. One of them swung a large black scythe, which apparently met its mark.

There was a pause. Then one of the newcomers looked surprised, as surprised as what little face it had could show, before Vergil gave it a mighty shove and it was thrown back, sand appearing to come from its body. Another sand cloud appeared as the victim made contact with a wall.

The other assailants joined the astonishment as Vergil spun the head of the first dupe on his right index finger, the chopsticks having been replaced in the bowl. He walked towards the jukebox, the creatures stubbornly holding onto their scythes and thus being dragged along. With a kick of his left leg, the creatures were dislodged from him. They fell back in an untidy heap, somehow kicking up more sand. He put down his bowl of ramen and then plucked out the scythe blades from his chest, the flesh healed and whole already. Vergil threw the last to be expunged upwards and it nicked a fan, which tumbled from its precarious hanging and spelled doom for the attackers currently beneath.

"I'm glad you could join me today, gentlemen. May your Hellish Pride enjoy the occasion," Vergil said as he used his left index finger to press a white button on the silver-plated jukebox, which lit blue but otherwise elicited no further response. He jabbed at it a few times, then uttered a "Screw it. Faulty workmanship." He began humming Beethoven's Sixth Symphony, tapping his left foot to the tune as the sound of shattering glass informed him of the arrival of reinforcements.

Vergil spun to his right and the scythe blade still stuck in his left elbow cut into a Hell Pride. He kicked out with his right leg, the blade jammed into his shin slashing at two more. Glimpsing an incoming scythe, Vergil threw his left arm forward, the embedded blade cleaving through the black pole. Swiftly he reversed the motion, dicing a would-be assassin, then completed his leftward spin with a forceful slap. With his left leg he threw himself into a backflip, pulling off a bicycle kick, then corrected himself in the air and made a rising back kick with his right leg, tossing a Hell Pride skyward.

His left elbow found its mark in the neck of another backstabber while a crescent kick did away with an attacking Hell Pride. Leaning backwards limbo-style, Vergil's ascending ankles locked around a Hell Pride's neck and he moved into a handstand briefly as the demon was sent flying with a leg toss. A turquoise, translucent wakizashi appeared out of thin air and found a resting place in the face of the next Hell Pride.

Vergil leapt up and made an elaborate sideward twist, bringing his right foot down on the next nearest demon's neck and forcing it to the floor. Kicking off with his left foot, the hapless idiot started sliding across the floor as blue wakizashis popped into existence and made to insert themselves none-too-gently into the Hell Prides.

"Onward!" Vergil yelled as he guided the ride's path with his left foot. One of the face-stabbed Hell Prides stumbled backwards into one of the legs of the mah-jong table, which collapsed on itself. Vergil moved his "surfboard" back towards the table and up the improvisatory ramp, leaping off at the apex as his demonic steed smashed into the wall. His feet contacted the table's higher end and it was forced down, the mah-jong tiles flying off.

"A waste of a perfectly good setup," Vergil declared as he called into being a blue spectral wakizashi, the object poking one tile and sending the rest forward. The cubic, Chinese-engraved objects struck home, putting down multiple demons. A broadsword, having a gold, spiralling hilt, skull pommel and W-shaped crossguard with a tapering silver blade, spun in the air and was snatched out by Vergil with the right hand, who used it to deliver a horizontal slice across the table.

"Force Edge deserves better than wood," Vergil stated as he kicked the two parts of the table away, resting Force Edge's crossguard on his right shoulder. "The end? Don't bet on it! We need something more filling than Hell Prides," he claimed as he rested his left hand on his left hip, a sinister smile emerging on his face. Behind him, a few Hell Prides' scythes twitched in their hands.

Vergil immediately ran next to his wrecked table and faced the Hell Prides, uttering an "I wait for weaklings" at them. Without further ado, he charged into the closest three. He made a downward swing, reversed his arm for a upward strike, then hyperextended his elbow, cutting across to his right, then again to his left. Suddenly, his arm appeared to become many and blades seemed to sprout from the air as Vergil made lightning-quick thrusts with Force Edge in the manoeuvre Sparda, his Father, had nicknamed Million Stab. The black-garbed demons jerked uncontrollably as the broadsword perforated their sand-made bodies, the yellow grains spilling from the wounds. Vergil drew Force Edge back and made one strong thrust, sending all three of the attackers sprawling back and dispersing into clouds of sand.

As it was, however, Vergil sensed something wrong. "Is it just me, or were those more resilient than the trailblazers?"

His ponderings were interrupted by the appearance of red orb-like objects bearing uncomfortable-looking faces from the sandclouds. They moved automatically towards Vergil and contacted him, upon which they disappeared. Magical words conceived themselves before him, informing him that the red objects were Red Orbs, "magic red stones of crystallised demon blood" that he should "offer to the gods to earn new power". Dismissing the words with a wave of his left hand, he hit Force Edge's pommel on a newly-arrived Hell Pride's face twice, then made an upward slice with him, the demon flailing its limbs haplessly as it was thrown skyward. The blade immediately backtracked, snaring the Hell Pride, sending it back down and shoving it away, the hellspawn collapsing into sand and Red Orbs as the blow made its mark. As this occurred, Vergil mocked the dead demon with "Coward!"

Seeing that no more Hell Prides were present, Vergil made for the door, but the lever refused to budge. He knew then that the show was not over yet.

Sure enough, the occurrence of arcane red symbols in the air preceded the arrival of more Hell Prides. As the first dropped down, Force Edge's skull-pommel embedded itself in the Hell Pride's face before the blade spun in Vergil's hand and made two diagonal slashes upwards. Again the Million Stab blazed its deadly path into the demons.

Not bothering to dignify them with the finisher, Vergil moved on to a next Hell Pride, the sadly-ignored splitting apart even as Vergil hurled his new target into the air and leapt after it. Force Edge flashed out twice and the Hell Pride was rendered asunder, a second one that was stupid enough to leap at Vergil being caught as well. Ghostly wakizashis loomed and made a pincushion out of the creature's body, suspending it in the air. It was a goner before it hit the ground. However, a third Hell Pride had somehow sneaked behind Vergil and raised its scythe to take Vergil down.

Then the tables turned. "Coward," Vergil said with a sinister grin. The Hell Pride, realising that its scythe had hit only air, turned and received a curveball swipe from Force Edge for its trouble. Vergil then slammed downwards with Force Edge, his edge bisecting the hellish being. A fourth Hell Pride advanced, but was sent on an ascent. As it tumbled down, Force Edge jerked in Vergil's hand and the scum found itself without a lower torso.

Without warning, two white skeletons, taller than humans and bearing fleshy orange spheres, turned up to Vergil's sides. "Wrath," the man observed and leapt away, calling down the energy wakizashis to smite the newly-arrived demons. As they were force-fed the Japanese blades, the Hell Wraths started to glow brighter and light started to emanate from within them. Vergil flung some more of the Summoned Swords their way and they soon exploded with yellow and white lighting.

More red runes scrawled themselves in the air and a hole in reality was ripped open. Once more into the breach poured the demons. Vergil was ready for them, however, and the scouts met the opening salvos of a Million Stab. Before he could be done, though, a birdlike "squawk" sound reached his ears and Vergil interrupted his blistering attack to jump. He made his getaway just in time, for a demon in a white-collared red cloak dashed in and cleaved through air where Vergil had been mere seconds ago.

"Lusts, I could never understand," Vergil shot out the side of his mouth. "Neither good-looking nor being incubi," He declared casually as he brought Force Edge down, backpedalled the action with Hightime, fired a few Summoned Swords at it, then waited for it to fall down and leapt on, kicking off in the motions of Free Ride. Summoned Swords shot at the Hell Pride chaperones as Vergil leapt off prior to the collision, the demon bursting into sand and Red Orbs as its face met the wall.

"Crazy, you think?" Vergil mouthed at the Hell Prides now approaching slowly. One leapt at him, but Vergil intercepted the idiot's hack with a downward strike of his own, followed by a full-circle spin and two rapid slashes. The air ripped apart again as the Million Stab added swiftly to the number of orifices in the demonhosts, until there was none but sand and Red Orbs where they had stood.

A Hell Lust squawked and dashed at Vergil, but the man calmly slid to the side and stuck his left leg out, the speeding hellspawn tripping over. Vergil reached out, caught the fiend by the scruff of the neck and pulled it towards himself as he extended Force Edge with his other hand, the point punching through the back. With casual ease, he slid his hand up to the top of the head and ripped it off, sand spilling from the wound as the demon disappeared to leave Red Orbs in its passing.

A Hell Pride sauntered over, somehow having been missed in the commotion, and tried to strike. Vergil rolled under the scythe and thrust Force Edge into its groin, noting with disappointed amusement that it showed no additional response to being hit in an area that would have proven critical against a human. He caught the scythe by its pole on the second of pathetic attempts and turned it against its wielder, decapitating it and collecting the spoils.

Vergil got even less of a respite than before when the next wave struck. Apparently Hell's dispatcher had decided to stop using Hell Prides, for there were no more, but only a Hell Wrath and a group of Lusts. Ignoring the Lusts for the moment, Vergil teleported onto the fleshlike bomb and leapt off, feeding it with a string of Summoned Swords. A Hell Lust tried to leap up after him and met the combustion, falling flat. Vergil wasted no time in sinking Force Edge's tip into the hellspawn's body, ending its pitiful existence.

Another Lust dashed at Vergil, but he stood there waiting until the last moment before delivering a bicycle kick, stopping it in place and throwing it skyward. Force Edge perforated its body as it rose and Vergil spun in place with the broadsword a few times before making a back kick, hurling the demon at one of its fellows. The kicked one burst into sand, while the hit one stumbled and fell on its face.

The fallen one tried to struggle to its feet, but Vergil callously walked over, slammed his right foot onto its back and severed its throat.

A final Hell Lust tried to put down Vergil in a handsome manoeuvre, but the man simply leapt over it and smashed it down with a falling diagonal blow, followed by catching its neck with a spinning strike and making a left side kick. The body flew into the wall as the head slid off.

Seeing that there were no more demons left standing, Vergil walked over to the coat-hanger and retrieved a blue ankle-length tailcoat with elaborate snakelike patterns in white down the sides, golden cufflinks and bronze hieroglyphics on the inner side. "That was the last, wasn't…"

The squawk of a Hell Lust cut Vergil's sentence off. It was standing dangerously close to his bowl of ramen. The demon looked from him to the bowl, then began lowering its right foot inside.

It never got all the way, for it was without a head the next moment.

Vergil retrieved his bowl of noodles and sniffed at it. Convinced that it had not been sullied by demonic sand, he downed the soup in one gulp. He walked to the door and tried the lever. Seeing that it was working again, he said to no one in particular, "I suppose this will be much fun, yes!"

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You will note that Vergil does not have Yamato. I have my reasons for this, to be revealed at a later date... 


End file.
